


Good Intentions

by toyhto



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Poor communications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22770964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyhto/pseuds/toyhto
Summary: Geralt protects Jaskier from sleeping with anyone. He's not sure why that's so important.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 100
Kudos: 884





	Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Another tiny story in which Geralt is an idiot and Jaskier puts up with him pretty well. Written for a prompt 'protection' for Geraskier Week 2020. Also, I'm rating this Mature just to be on the safe side since there's little bit of dirty talk in this. AND I know _Good Intentions_ sounds very familiar and I can't get into my head where I know it from, but anyway, I'm borrowing it for the title.
> 
> You can say hi to me on [tumblr](http://toyhto.tumblr.com)!

”I’m just trying to protect you,” Geralt said.  
  
“No,” Jaskier said in an equally frustrated tone, which was very frustrating, because Geralt had a reason to be frustrated and Jaskier didn’t. They were in a very fancy and uncomfortable party and Geralt had just stopped Jaskier from getting into trouble. The only reason Geralt had even _come_ to this party was to stop Jaskier from getting into trouble, and also because Jaskier had asked nicely. “No, you aren’t protecting me, Geralt,” Jaskier said now. “You’re cockblocking me.”  
  
“What?” Geralt asked and glanced at the front of Jaskier’s fancy trousers. He wondered who Jaskier’s tailor was. Then he returned his gaze to Jaskier’s eyes. “ _What?_ ”  
  
“Yes,” Jaskier said stubbornly. “You’re trying to keep me from participating in sweet delights of love.”  
  
That didn’t make much more sense. “No, I’m not. I’m just trying to keep you from being killed. You always pick the wrong woman, the one with the angriest husband.”  
  
“That’s not true,” Jaskier said, “and how could I know? They don’t seem angry before I start flirting with their wives.”  
  
“You’re out of control,” Geralt said. He wanted to grab Jaskier’s shoulders and shake the idiot, or preferably, to lift Jaskier up and carry him out of the fucking ballroom altogether. That would have solved the problem. “And besides, you _asked_ me to take care that the cuckolds won’t kill you.”  
  
“I asked you _five years ago_ , when we were going to that party in Cintra,” Jaskier said, “I didn’t mean that you need to keep me from sleeping with anyone for the rest of my life.” And then he punched Geralt in the arm.  
  
Geralt blinked. Then he looked at his arm. Then he looked at Jaskier. Jaskier seemed a little shocked and also like he was in pain. “Did you hurt your knuckles?”  
  
Jaskier grimaced. “Yes. _Shit._ ”  
  
“You shouldn’t have tried to hit me,” Geralt said. “That was stupid. So, now that you’re hurt, should we leave?”  
  
“We came to this party so that people could see that you’re fun and easy-going and wouldn’t be so scared of you and instead would give you jobs to do,” Jaskier said, “and so that I could find someone to sleep with. We aren’t going to _leave_ , Geralt. Come on. You’re being impossible.”  
  
“No, you’re being impossible,” Geralt said. “And I’m not fun and easy-going.”  
  
“Well, that’s obvious. Everyone’s staring at us.”  
  
Geralt looked around. That was true. Some people were dancing, and some were eating, and some were drinking, and some were talking to each other, but all of them were throwing glances at Geralt and Jaskier. That was probably because Jaskier was being an idiot and had just tried to punch Geralt. If he hadn’t been so frustrated, Geralt might have found that almost amusing. Maybe he would let Jaskier punch him on the arm later again, but carefully so that Jaskier wouldn’t hurt his hand.  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said, “you know you’re my best friend, but this is the last time I let you come to a party with me.”  
  
“You dragged me here,” Geralt said, “after you had chosen clothes for me and fixed my hair. We should dance.”  
  
Jaskier stared at him. “What?”  
  
“Everyone’s looking at us, like you said. We should dance. That’ll make them think everything’s normal and you aren’t being an idiot who’s trying to sleep with someone else’s wife.”  
  
“Well, I don’t have my own, do I?” Jaskier asked and then took a deep breath. He had failed to lace his shirt all the way up and Geralt could see some chest hair at his neckline. “Geralt, you and I dancing together won’t make them stop staring at us.”  
  
“You’re wrong,” Geralt said, and then, just to prove that he was right and Jaskier was wrong, he grabbed Jaskier’s hand and pulled him closer. A little too close at first, apparently, because Jaskier’s nose hit Geralt’s cheek. Geralt put his left hand on the low Jaskier’s back and held Jaskier’s left hand in his right, and then he started dancing.  
  
“You’re good at this,” Jaskier said, sounding surprised.  
  
“I’m very old,” Geralt said. “I’ve had some time to learn a few skills.”  
  
“You’re actually really good,” Jaskier said, squeezing Geralt’s left shoulder. “Who would have known?”  
  
“I did.”  
  
Jaskier laughed a little and then took a deep breath. “Geralt, why are you cockblocking me?”  
  
“I’m not…” But he couldn’t say it. The word was ridiculous.  
  
“Oh, but you _are._ And by the way, everyone is still staring at us.”  
  
That was true. Everyone was staring at them, only now they had also stopped doing whatever they had been doing before.  
  
“I’m just trying to protect you.”  
  
“What if -,” and Jaskier put his hand on Geralt’s neck instead of his shoulder, his fingers brushing Geralt’s skin. Maybe it was a new style that had evolved after Geralt had last danced forty years ago. “What if I could find someone who’s not married and doesn’t have a father or a brother or a fiancée who would hate me? A nice woman who would want to sleep with me and not get me killed afterwards?”  
  
Geralt frowned. That didn’t seem probable.  
  
“Would you let me sleep with someone then?” Jaskier asked in a quiet voice, but Geralt could hear him perfectly, because they were dancing very close to each other again. Also, the musicians had stopped playing their instruments and were now staring at them with the rest of the room. “Would you, Geralt?”  
  
Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s hand a little. Jaskier’s hand was so warm and steady and familiar in Geralt’s, maybe because Jaskier was always fussing with his hair.  
  
“No,” Geralt said.  
  
“Oh,” Jaskier said, “you wouldn’t? And why is that?”  
  
Geralt thought about that. Obviously, he was trying to protect -  
  
“And don’t you fucking dare to tell me that you’re protecting me,” Jaskier said. He was kind of fondling Geralt’s hair now but then again, there was nothing new in that.  
  
“I don’t know,” Geralt said finally. It was actually a little weird. If it wasn’t about protection, why didn’t he want Jaskier to sleep with someone? He knew Jaskier liked sleeping with people. And he liked Jaskier. He liked Jaskier and wanted Jaskier to do things Jaskier liked, except for sleeping with someone. That didn’t seem logical.  
  
“You don’t?” Jaskier’s fingers in Geralt’s hair stilled. “That’s too bad.”  
  
Geralt frowned. “Do you?”  
  
Jaskier looked a little surprised. “Do I what?”  
  
“Do you know why I don’t want you to sleep with anyone?”  
  
“I don’t think you’re supposed to ask me that,” Jaskier said, “but well, I have a guess.”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“No,” Jaskier said.  
  
Geralt blinked. Jaskier never said _no_ to him. “What?”  
  
“No, I’m not going to tell you,” Jaskier said, shifting closer to him. He realized vaguely that they had stopped dancing at some point and were now just standing there in the middle of the room. He was still holding Jaskier by his waist and hand, and he wasn’t going to let go. Otherwise Jaskier might escape and try to find a woman to sleep with.  
  
“Why?” he asked. “You always tell me everything.”  
  
“No,” Jaskier said slowly, “not really, not always.”  
  
“What?” Well, that was frustrating. “What haven’t you told me?”  
  
“Many things,” Jaskier said.  
  
Geralt kind of wanted to take Jaskier in his arms and carry out of the room and then shout at him a little, but it seemed impolite. So, he pulled Jaskier closer to himself instead, just to let him know Geralt wasn’t going to let go of him before he told Geralt whatever it was that he knew and Geralt didn’t. It was just a nice bonus that holding Jaskier against his body felt surprisingly good.  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said, “you’re kind of ruining the party. People are leaving because they think we need the room and don’t dare to come to tell you that.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Because you’re big and strong and could easily kill them,” Jaskier said.  
  
“I wouldn’t,” Geralt said. But Jaskier was right about the rest of it. People were leaving the room and it wasn’t even midnight yet.  
  
“Come on,” Jaskier said, “let’s go back to the inn. It’s pretty obvious that you aren’t going to let me enjoy the physical aspects of love tonight, so we could as well finish this conversation at home.”  
  
“It’s not our home, it’s the inn,” Geralt pointed out, but they had stayed in the same room for a week now, so he understood why Jaskier had mistaken. And it had been a nice week. It was pleasant to wake up every morning to see Jaskier drooling onto the pillow next to his. Jaskier was so quiet and harmless when he was asleep. “But do you promise that you will tell me?”  
  
“Yes,” Jaskier said with a sigh and then patted Geralt on the shoulder until Geralt let go of his hand.  
  
  
**  
  
  
But the problem was, when they finally were in their own room in the inn, Geralt didn’t remember what the question was. There was something he had asked Jaskier and Jaskier had promised to tell him, but now the door was locked and Jaskier was looking like he was waiting for Geralt to ask again, and Geralt didn’t want to admit he had forgotten. Also, he was a little distracted, because Jaskier was trying to get out of his fancy clothes. For some unknown reason, it was fascinating to see Jaskier undress. Probably that was because all Jaskier’s clothes were so ridiculously pretty.  
  
“Geralt, you’re kind of staring at me,” Jaskier said.  
  
“Sorry,” Geralt said but didn’t stop, because there was nothing else in the room he’d rather looked at than Jaskier.  
  
“I don’t mind,” Jaskier said, “It’s just a little confusing. Geralt, don’t you really know?”  
  
“Don’t I know what?” Geralt asked. He knew plenty of things.  
  
“Why you don’t want me to sleep with other people,” Jaskier said, putting his hands on his hips and looking at Geralt expectantly. He wasn’t wearing a shirt anymore and his trousers were tugged to his knees, but somehow he still managed to look a little intimidating in his own harmless way.  
  
Geralt swallowed. “I just don’t like the idea.”  
  
“Yes, well,” Jaskier said, tilting his head to the side, “and why do you think that is?”  
  
Geralt shook his head. Maybe Jaskier knew. There were some things in which Jaskier was better than him, including almost everything that had to do with feelings. And he had a feeling that this was about a feeling. His chest felt oddly tight like there was something wrong with his lungs, only he knew there wasn’t. His lungs were perfect.  
  
“Just tell me,” he said. He wanted to be able to breathe again.  
  
“I’m not sure.”  
  
“Then guess.”  
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier said impossibly slowly, like he was trying to make Geralt mad purposely. “You have to promise me you won’t get mad.”  
  
“I can’t promise you that.” He was already a little mad, because Jaskier was clearly withholding information from him.  
  
“Well, if you get mad, just promise me you won’t walk away from me,” Jaskier said, taking a step towards Geralt, only then he almost tripped over, because his trousers fell to his ankles. “ _Shit._ Anyway, you have to promise me you’re going to stay. Because if you get mad and take Roach and leave to hunt for some goddamn monster god knows where with no way for me to reach you, I’ll just…” Jaskier shook his head. “I’ll be so angry. So, don’t do that. You can, I don’t know, you can hit me instead.”  
  
Geralt frowned. “Why would I do that? That would hurt you.”  
  
There was something like a smile on Jaskier’s mouth, and then it was gone. “Okay, no hitting. Just don’t leave.”  
  
“Okay,” Geralt said. “Tell me.”  
  
Jaskier took a deep breath, and then another, and then another.  
  
“Jaskier?”  
  
“Have you ever considered…” Jaskier paused, froze and then started taking off his clothes in a hurry. “Fuck. I can’t do this, Geralt, I don’t know how I’m supposed to say –“  
  
“Stop undressing and look at me,” Geralt said. “Talking is hard, I know. But you got to the middle of a sentence already.”  
  
“Yes,” Jaskier said slowly, “but the last part is the tricky one.” He had managed to pull his trousers off and now he was fiddling with the laces of his undershirt.  
  
“You can tell me anything,” Geralt pointed out. “You _have_ told me pretty much everything, including many things I didn’t want to hear.”  
  
“If you’re talking about the issue of you smiling more, I’m not sorry I told you that. You _should_ smile more. You have such a pretty smile.”  
  
Geralt grimaced.  
  
“Anyway,” Jaskier said, looking suddenly terrified. “Anyway, here it comes. I’ll tell you. But if this is the last of our friendship, let me just say first, that I’ve enjoyed everything so much, except for the times when I have been cold, wet and in mortal danger, but that’s only, like, half of the time we’ve spent together. And if I never meet you again, I just want you to know that I –“  
  
“Bloody hell, Jaskier,” Geralt said, “I will not leave you. Just fucking say it already.”  
  
Jaskier nodded. He looked tiny. Well, he _was_ tiny but normally his self-esteem hid that.  
  
“Have you ever considered,” Jaskier said slowly, “that maybe you don’t want me to sleep with anyone else, because you want to do it yourself?”  
  
Geralt blinked. “Do what?”  
  
Jaskier stared at him like he had missed something. He tried to rewind it in his head. Jaskier had asked him, if he had considered that maybe he didn’t want Jaskier to sleep with anyone else, because he wanted to -  
  
“Fuck,” he said and then bit his lip. “ _Fuck._ ”  
  
“Yes,” Jaskier said, blinking rapidly. “That’s what we’re talking about.”  
  
“Fuck,” Geralt said and then searched for his vocabulary for something else, “no, I mean… _Fuck._ I hadn’t… I didn’t… Do you think that’s it?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Jaskier said in a thin voice. “It would kind of make sense, though. You grabbed me by my waist and dragged me away today when I tried to talk to that nice red-haired lady. And you _always_ stare at me when I take off my clothes.”  
  
“That’s because it’s fascinating,” Geralt said, “and I didn’t want you to sleep with that woman.” He cleared his throat. “So, you think I want to –“  
  
“Fuck me,” Jaskier said. He looked very nervous. “Maybe. Do you?”  
  
Geralt stared at him.  
  
“Because I’m not… “ Jaskier crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not…” And he started fumbling with the waistline of his smallclothes. “Geralt, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t like that, it’s just…”  
  
Geralt cleared his throat. “You aren’t?”  
  
“No,” Jaskier said, “absolutely not. I don’t know if you have noticed –“  
  
“I haven’t.”  
  
“- but I kind of like to touch you a lot.” Jaskier looked like he had been caught trying to steal biscuits. Geralt knew that, because he had once caught Jaskier with his hand in a biscuit jar. “I try to focus on your hair, because you don’t seem to mind. But really, I’d also like to touch all your skin, and all your scars, and well, I wouldn’t mind touching your…” He swallowed. “Your ass.”  
  
Geralt thought about that. There had been a few times when Jaskier had touched his ass, usually when he had been injured and there had been cuts that needed attention. “You wouldn’t?”  
  
“No,” Jaskier said, “not at all. Not at all, Geralt.”  
  
Maybe Jaskier would touch Geralt’s ass later tonight. That would be nice. But there was something else they should discuss first, only Geralt wasn’t exactly certain what that was. “And what about the rest of it?”  
  
“The rest of you? I’d like to touch it all.”  
  
“No,” Geralt said and blinked, “I mean, okay. You can. But what I meant was…” And he made a vague gesture at the direction of his waist.  
  
Jaskier cleared his throat. “Your cock? I can touch it as well, if you like.”  
  
“No,” Geralt said, _shit_ , “I mean, _yes._ But I meant, what about fucking you?”  
  
Jaskier stared at him with wide eyes. “What about that?”  
  
“Would you…” Geralt took a deep breath. He had a feeling that tonight, he had been doing more breathing in an hour than he normally did in a day. “Would you want me to…”  
  
“Fuck me? Yes. Yes, please.”  
  
Well, that was… Geralt took a step towards Jaskier, and Jaskier took a sharp breath. “Really?”  
  
“Yes,” Jaskier said, “yes, very much. And now that we’re telling all our secrets, I need you to know that I have had very indecent dreams about you for _years_.”  
  
“I haven’t told you any of my secrets,” Geralt pointed out and then paused. “You’ve had dreams about me?”  
  
“Plenty,” Jaskier said, blushing, which was adorable. Geralt wanted to take his face in his hands and feel if it was as warm as it looked. “And some of them were pretty good.”  
  
“Maybe I won’t live up to your expectations.”  
  
“My expectations?” Jaskier said and laughed a little breathlessly. “My _expectations?_ My expectations were that once I told you, you would get confused and angry and maybe punch me in the stomach and then you’d leave.”  
  
“I would never hurt you,” Geralt said.  
  
“Well,” Jaskier said, “it can stir up all kind of emotions when a man you’re travelling with tells you he thinks you want to fuck him.”  
  
“A man I’m travelling with?” Geralt took another step to Jaskier, and Jaskier stared at him with wide eyes. “Jaskier, you’re my friend.”  
  
“Am I, really?”  
  
“ _Yes._ I thought you knew. You’ve been telling me that for ages.”  
  
Jaskier smiled a little. “Okay. So, you aren’t going to punch me then. And you aren’t going to leave. And you aren’t going to –“  
  
“I think,” Geralt said and put his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders to keep him in place. “I think I’m going to fuck you.”  
  
Jaskier let out a sigh. “ _Oh._ ”  
  
“If you’re fine with that.”  
  
“Trust me, I’m more than fine,” Jaskier said. “Can I touch you?”  
  
Geralt nodded.  
  
Jaskier looked a little shocked. “Can I _undress_ you?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And can I…” Jaskier paused and then patted Geralt on the chest. Geralt caught Jaskier’s hand and then covered it with his, so that he felt Jaskier’s lovely warm fingers being pressed against where his heart was now beating almost like a human’s. “Geralt,” Jaskier said slowly, “I have this funny thing, I don’t know if you knew already, but I like to kiss people I fuck. I like to… I like _romance._ I like to think that there’s at least a chance that I’m going to fall in love with them and they’re going to fall in love with me.”  
  
“Well, obviously I love you,” Geralt said and squeezed Jaskier’s fingers slightly. “Do you want me to kiss you?”  
  
Jaskier nodded. He looked surprised about something. Maybe he hadn’t thought Geralt would like kissing.  
  
“Now?” Geralt asked. It was worrying to see Jaskier so quiet.  
  
Jaskier nodded again. Well, maybe he would bite Geralt in the lips or something if he changed his mind about kissing.  
  
Geralt took Jaskier’s face in between his hands. Jaskier was staring at him with his mouth ajar. He swallowed. It had been a while since he had kissed anyone who mattered to him, and he wanted to do this right.  
  
He brushed his thumb against Jaskier’s lips and Jaskier licked it.  
  
He froze.  
  
Jaskier froze as well. “Sorry.”  
  
“No, that was…” Maybe Geralt should just get into it, since Jaskier had already started.  
  
He kissed Jaskier.  
  
He was a little worried about how it was going, because Jaskier had kissed a lot of people and considered himself kind of an expert, which he had told Geralt many times. And now Jaskier was very quiet and just pushing his fingers into Geralt’s hair and Geralt’s everywhere, clinging onto Geralt’s shoulders and muttering something about how _much_ there was of Geralt, which didn’t make sense, but Geralt couldn’t think about two things at the same time, so he focused on the kissing. He wanted it to be sweet but passionate, loving but wild, all those stupid adjectives Jaskier used when he talked about his love affairs. And Geralt didn’t want to be a love affair. He wanted to be _the_ love affair. He wanted to protect Jaskier from sleeping with anyone else. He felt a little foolish about all that, but that was what he wanted.  
  
Also, he was a little confused about why he hadn’t realized it sooner.  
  
  
**  
  
  
“Geralt?”  
  
Geralt lifted his head up from the pillow. “What? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”  
  
“No,” Jaskier said and then blinked, “well, maybe _a little_. But it’s my own fault.”  
  
“You told me to fuck you harder,” Geralt said, “repeatedly.”  
  
“Yes,” Jaskier said and rolled onto his back. “It was perfect.”  
  
“Was it? Really? Because I was trying to –“  
  
“You were perfect,” Jaskier said and put his hand on Geralt’s chest. “You were so serious about it, and so focused, and you grunted _so much._ ”  
  
“Did you want me to talk?”  
  
“No, grunting was _lovely._ ” Jaskier glanced at him. His face was still flushed, his hair was sweaty and his mouth was red from where Geralt had kissed it. “You can talk too, if you want. The next time.”  
  
“The next time?”  
  
“Not now, though,” Jaskier said quickly, “probably not today.”  
  
Geralt blinked.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jaskier said, stroking Geralt’s chest hair with clumsy fingers. “You didn’t hurt me.”  
  
“The noises you made –“  
  
“Ah,” Jaskier said. “That was just me telling you how much I like you.”  
  
Geralt frowned.  
  
“Because I like you a lot. Like, _a lot._ ”  
  
“Good,” Geralt said.  
  
“And I can’t believe you _danced_ with me in a _party_ ,” Jaskier said, “when everyone was staring at us.”  
  
“I only thought about you.”  
  
“Well, I _know._ That was kind of obvious. Geralt?”  
  
Geralt turned to his side so that he could properly see Jaskier. “Yes?”  
  
“Would you -,” Jaskier paused and licked his lips. “Would you hold me? Because I know that you’re big and scary and you probably aren’t into stuff like that, but I kind of… I really like some cuddling after I’ve been thoroughly fucked.”  
  
Geralt cleared his throat. “I can cuddle.”  
  
“You can?”  
  
“Yes. I’ve heard about it. I know the basics.”  
  
“Thank god,” Jaskier said and smiled at him. “Then cuddle me, Geralt of Rivia.”  
  
He wondered what the hell was happening to his face, and then he realized he was smiling back to Jaskier. Jaskier didn’t seem to mind, though, so he took the man in his arms and then smiled some more.


End file.
